


sweet

by beeperinobeep



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Furry, Mild Hurt/Comfort, THATS, also uhhh, bird lesbians, god im sorry if i missed anything important, i guess? idk what tf to do lmao, thats what they are i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeperinobeep/pseuds/beeperinobeep
Summary: uhhhhhhhhhhh fuckinnnnnnnnnnnnnnn lesbian birds and also ones mildly suicidal





	sweet

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh heres [the](https://toyhou.se/1026098.asphodel) [characters](https://toyhou.se/1024769.chamomile) this junk is based off of lmao might not be a bad idea to Read This Shit (tm) if you can

One thing she’s learned during these last few years is that sweetness can come in many flavors. An almost fruity sort of sweet in the twilight air mingling with the faint chill of the oncoming autumn, caused from some of the many apple trees in the small, isolated town beginning to bloom. She tried to place which kind it was exactly- there were practically dozens of varieties in this street alone (after all, it was practically the apple capital of the country), and she wasn’t the apple connoisseur in the relationship- but judging by how early they seemed to begin to bloom as well as the pale pinkish-purple of the flowers- now a desaturated lavender in the fading sunlight- she eventually came to the conclusion that they were Blushing Maidens- a somewhat rare variety native mostly to this area of a deep magenta color. A small, content smile began to twitch at the corners of her face as she took another drag of the cigarette in her hand, the dark, blue-grey smoke coiling around her pale purple plumage. 

The name reminded her of the near sugary-sweet adoration of her partner. Dear fucking god, she thought as she blew out a cloud of bittersweet smoke- a flavor she certainly wasn’t used to from her usual cigarettes, but she’d had to make do with a local brand once she ran out- she’s so... _ gay _ . Not that that was a bad thing, of course- if anything, that’s the main reason she’s in this relationship. After all, she was very gay herself. She briefly pondered if her other half thought this much about her- probably not; she was rather busy most of the time, and didn’t have much time to focus on such things-

Not that she minded much. She was nice enough regardless. Even her very name- or hell, nigh everything about her- seemed to leave the taste of caramel and teacakes in her mouth and made her heart flutter about like a schoolgirl’s.

She gave a content sigh and stubbed out the rest of her cigarette on the nearby column supporting the roof of the front porch, narrowly avoiding a rather large spider who had decided to make its home there for the past few months. 

She was very lucky to have met her indeed.

A sudden gust of cool air from behind her startled her from her thoughts, followed by the swift tugging down of the neck of her sweater and a nuzzle on her bare neck. She whirled around in shock and nearly stumbled off of the porch before regaining her bearings. 

“ _ Jesus, _ Camie, you damn near scared me right dead!” she said with exasperation to the bright scarlet and rather pudgy bird staring right back at her through the open window with a somewhat lopsided grin showing off rows of pointed teeth the same pearly white as her beak.

“Pff. I was jus’ gonna tell ya the tea’s ready, ya dork.” She gave another surprise nuzzle, this time on the side of the faded purple bird’s face. “Come in. It’s gon’ end up rainin’ soon ‘nyways- you’ll get right soaked.” Another gust of air blew out as the window shut, and the elderly bird standing on the porch gave a bemused shake of the head and a barely-noticeable chuckle under her breath. She turned on her heel and walked in, the clacking of her metal legs against sturdy wood temporarily startling a moth who settled on a nearby lantern as well as more than a few crickets hiding in the shrubs.

“Might be a dork, but at least I don’t sound like a damn  _ banjo _ ,” she called out in her slightly hoarse voice as she walked into the house and shut the door behind her. The house itself certainly wasn’t large- nowhere near the size of her girlfriend’s bakery, that was a definite, though it was still rather small compared to the houses on the rest of the street- but especially with the warm glow of the fireplace nearby as well as the scent of the ever-so-slightly chilly night air wafting through the window that just never seemed to shut quite right, it was much cozier than it looked from the outside, especially given the ramshackle roof above their heads- by the gods, she kept telling her to get it fixed, but she just  _ never  _ did it for  _ who knows why _ -

“ _ Asphie! _ ” 

Asphodel snapped back to reality yet again- she’s seemed to be thinking a lot more often than usual for whatever reason- and turned her attention to the cardinal-colored baker standing by the dining room table clutching a teapot in one hand and attempting to brush off what were presumably crushed tea leaves of some sort off of her pale cerulean skirt with the other. 

“What’s gotten into ya tonight, hun?” Chamomile said with a small lilt of concern to her usual Southern twang as she nearly avoided spilling boiling water on herself.

“What’d’ya mean, what’s gotten into me?” the other bird retorted back, attempting to clean off a newly-noticed smudge of cigarette ash on the sleeve of her teal sweater in the meantime.

“Ya just been...ah gee, I dunno, this prolly sounds  _ stupid,  _ but…” She finished pouring the water into mismatched porcelain cups and adjusted the baby blue bow on her off-white blouse. “Jus’ seems ya been thinkin’ a lot more than usual, is all. Jus’...y’know, what with the whole depression thing y’ got goin’ on-”

“What, do ya think I’m gonna fuckin’ kill myself or some shit?”

“...Maybe.”

Asphodel gave the second sigh of the night and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace in the living room, giving a glance at the concerned baker in the room a few steps away. “Hun, you know as well as I do that if I was gonna kill myself or whatever, I wouldn’t waste my damn time mopin’ around outside. I’d just man up and fuckin’ do it, y’know?” 

“Uhm.” Chamomile glanced away as she picked up the two mugs and walked over to the raggedy couch the other was sprawled out on. “Oh. O...kay...then.” She carefully sat down next to her so as to avoid spilling the tea- if attempting to avoid sitting on another’s surprisingly lanky legs and soon deciding to instead sit on the arm of the couch to avoid the trouble altogether counted as next to, that is- and shot a worried glance at Asphodel as she handed her a mug. 

“Look. I just don’t want ya to worry about me, is all.” She took a sip of the tea- sweet lavender mixed with spearmint- and continued. “You just… you just worry too much, y’know?”

“Well, yea sure, but…” Chamomile shrugged her shoulders. “Y’know how it is.” She gave a nervous chuckle. 

“Hun. Listen. I’m fine. No clue where the hell you got the idea I’m gonna fuckin’ hang myself or some shit. People just think a lot sometimes, dude. I know you got anxiety n’ all but...fuck man. Fuckin’  _ chill _ with that shit.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with the only sounds being the crackling of burning wood- hickory, judging by the scent-, the crickets outside, and the occasional group of friends out in the night doing who-knows-what that apparently involves a random scream here and there.

“Here,” Asphodel said, putting her own mug of tea down on the ground. “Put ya damn mug down for a second.”

“Wait, why in the  _ hell _ -”

“Listen, just do it.”

Chamomile gave a rather confused look and set her mug down on the coffee table nearby. Asphodel then forced herself up- no doubt greatly assisted by the multitude of metal prosthetic arms somewhat messily plastered on her back- and in one somewhat swift motion grabbed her girlfriend by the waist and fell back down, effectively trapping her in her embrace as her bronzen arms temporarily unfolded yet again to pull the mauve blanket off of the back of the couch and onto the couple below.

“Asphie, what in the blazes are you doin’?” the banjo-sounding motherfucker asked, though even with her confusion she made no attempt to back out of her lover’s arms.

“Just chill for a moment, yea?” She arched her back slightly to allow her prosthetic arms to fold back into place before settling back down. “You worry too much, hun. Hell, you’re makin’  _ me _ worried, if...that even makes sense.”

“‘s not like I can stop, Asphie, you know that.”

“I know, but…” With a bit of maneuvering, she managed to pull the wool blanket somewhat tighter around them both. “Just promise me you’ll at least...god this is probably gonna sound kinda assholish, but...at least try not to worry  _ as _ much, y’know?”

“...Yea. Yea, sure hun.”

“You need me to get an alchemist or somethin’? Maybe get different meds that’ll kinda...y’know…calm ya down some? There’s this one- kinda odd lookin’, not gonna lie- that stops by every now ‘n then who knows his shit-”

“‘t’s fine.” the scarlet bird muttered, burrowing herself somewhat deeper into Asphodel’s chest. “‘ll jus’ deal with it t’morrow, yea?” She gave a half-hearted smile. “Already worried ‘bout too much t’night anyways”

“Yea, no, it’s fine.” The depressed piece of shit gave a small yawn, starting to fall asleep herself whilst hugging Chamomile closer to her. They lay there in silence for what seemed like ages in the now-peaceful evening- the rain Chamomile had warned about hours ago had finally started drumming against the window panes, with the occasional droplet flying through the cracked-open window, and seemed to drown out the noise of the crickets somewhat. The fire slowly died down until it was a mere spark among the logs, and the only noise coming from the room save for the sparse mouse that happened upon the bags of sugar in the cupboards were the quiet, near-inaudible snores of the thicc baker, who’d curled up and slept just a few minutes ago. The watchmaker she was lying on gave a small smile even in her barely-awake state- by the gods, she could be adorable sometimes. She raised one of her hands- careful not to move it in a way that would disturb her partner- and, with a flick of her wrist, put out the rest of the flame, casting the room- and essentially the rest of the house- into dark, dancing shadows of blues and purples. She flopped her head back down onto the couch and curled up as best as she was able, given the weight on her chest- not that she minded it at all.

Sometimes, it seemed the sweetest thing in life was just passing the fuck out on the couch at midnight with your girlfriend.


End file.
